Constellations
by words-with-dragons
Summary: Crash land on the planet of Hoth? Check. Fail mission set by Master Luke Skywalker? Check. And get stuck with your-sort-of-not-really-ex-boyfriend/friend that you have a lot of unresolved feelings about? Triple check. Rey's in for a rough couple of weeks. [Finn/Rey] Set 3 years after TFA, a story of love lost and found. Cover made by me.
1. The First Star

Constellations

* * *

chapter one:  
the first star

"Don't wait for the stars to align. Reach up, rearrange them the way you want them to be. Create your own constellation."  
-Pharrell Williams

* * *

The snow is blinding.

It's the first thought that worms its way into Rey's disorientated brain, the white flurries swirling around her. Her vision is blurry at best, and she blinks a few times to clear it, her limbs sprawled across cool metal. The floor, she registers dimly. She's on the floor. And her head hurts. Everything hurts really, but especially her head.

The second is that the Millennium Falcon should definitely have a ceiling. Only, the metal plates are twisted open, silver against the whiteness of the snow and raised high towards pale blue sky. Snow is gathering along the metal floor, the small game table and booths. The cockpit, she thinks, forcing her brain to string a coherent sentence, is close by. The rest of the Falcon is stretching out to the other side of her head and it hurts too much to turn her neck, but she imagines it's in an equally rough condition.

What had happened? Rey strains her memory and can remember First Order TIE-Fighters firing, they hit something, something important. The ship had crash-landed, slamming into the snow with a force that had knocked her out of her seat, skidded, turned over, and slowly slide to a halt. She hadn't wanted to come on this mission, she remembers. She had only agreed because it was a direct order from her Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. To find some ancient Jedi relic, some special, lightsaber, she guessed, stowed away on one of Hoth's three moons. Which one, he hadn't been sure.

 _Old people forget things,_ he had shrugged, and smiled good-naturedly.

 _You're not old!_ Rey had scoffed.

Now, she wonders if she's the old person who can't remember. Why hadn't she wanted to come on this mission? What had been so terrible about the assignment that had made her want to turn and run, just like she had on Takodana after touching Luke's lightsaber for the first time?

There's a weak groan of pain off to her left, so weak it's nearly carried away by the wind, but it rings in her ears, and she remembers exactly why she didn't want to come.

"Finn," she croaks, coughing. There's a bitter taste in her mouth. Dried blood? Her arms are aching as she pushes herself up from the floor, shaking as she squints through the snow and darkness. Of course, they had had to crash land at night. She feels like she has the worst luck in the galaxy sometimes, honestly.

"Rey," he says, and lifts his head. She's grateful for his dark skin, as it makes him easier to spot. He was cast further back out of the cockpit than her, and she feels worry crawl up her throat. She isn't sure if she's been injured or not, but what if he has? What if it's serious? Her knowledge of medicine is still pretty limited and Hoth - she's sure they've landed on the actual planet - is the opposite of her sandy, sweltering Jakku.

But he seems to be okay. Upon closer inspection her observation may be proven wrong, but for now it gives her a scrap of relief and she clings to it, startled when Finn pushes himself up onto shaking legs. Why is she more badly affected by the fall? Or is it his former Stormtrooper training kicking in?

He takes a wobbly step towards her and nearly slips on the metal floor, slick with snow and ice that's quickly forming. "Oh Rey," he looks distressed, his brow scrunching together, and somewhere in the back of her mind, close to the spot throbbing with pain, she thinks he looks cute. "Come on let's get you out of here."

"Am I hurt?" she asks, her words coming out surprisingly slow, like she has to properly chew each one before her lips can form it.

Finn winces, looking her up and down, and then tries for a winning smile she can see right through. "Nah, it's not that bad. You'll be fine."

She wonders just how bad it actually is and frowns at him, especially when she feels one of his arms skimming along her back, the other curling underneath the back of her knees. His arm is warm, and strong, and - is he _picking_ her up? "Finn!" Her voice spikes and a roughness clouds her throat. She hacks into her arm and then swats at his broad chest with her hand much more lightly than she intends to. "I can walk perfectly fine!"

"Nu-uh," Finn says gently yet firmly, still with a trace of worry. "You need to take it easy Rey. I'm gonna bring you into the cockpit and then go look for supplies okay?"

"I can walk!" she insists. She had gotten used to letting Finn help her, even take care of her on the one occasion she had fallen ill, but that is in the past; she has to leave it behind. Rey shifts her body, grateful that Finn's still kneeling, and lowers her right leg and foot onto the floor. She stubbornly puts some weight on it. Pain flares and shoots up her leg, up her whole body, so intensely black dots dance in her vision. She never broke anything back on Jakku, but she thinks maybe she has now. Maybe, unfortunately, it is better to let Finn carry her.

Finn, to his credit, doesn't say _I told you so,_ even if he does look a little smug. Instead, his eyes soften with concern as he brings her leg back towards him, and he raises his eyebrows in a wordless way of asking permission.

"Fine," Rey grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows when to admit defeat. "Carry me."

Finn lifts her gently, drawing her closer to his chest. Rey realizes just how cold she was before, and curls into his warmth, his steadiness. Part of her wishes she didn't feel so safe like this, wrapped up in his arms. She needs some kind of distraction, so she reaches up and combs her fingers through the messy buns on the back of her head, the lowest one having come undone in the crash, and feels a small patch of something warm and sticky. When she pulls her hand back, her fingers are smudged faintly with blood. No wonder her head hurts so much. She's never liked the sight of blood much, and closes her eyes to avoid it and lets her head rest against Finn's shoulder, turning her face into his chest. There's no point in trying to find a distraction, and besides, she's just doing this for a shield from the wind and snow, and for the warmth, she decides logically. No other reasons. Of course not.

Rey's glad that if either of them had to get hurt, it's her. She doubts she'll ever get the imagine of Finn's limp, bloodied body, motionless, out of her head. And the one of him after Kylo had ripped his back open with his lightsaber still haunts her, even after three years.

Rey cracks one eye open, looking up at Finn. She thinks dully, as he sets her down in the pilot seat with care, how strange is it to be back in the place where they first introduced themselves. They had run to each other, she remembers, words spilling out in a hurried rush of excitement. She had never spoken so much to one person in her life. How despite being strangers, they had so much to say. So many good things to say.

There's an odd look on Finn's face as he straightens after setting her down, and as he turns his back on her, she closes her eyes, not wanting to see him leave. Not wanting to remember how she left him.

Now, they're anything but strangers, yet also strangers again in some strange way, and she can feel the weight of everything they're not saying, hanging heavily in the air. She's glad she's alone. It makes it easier to think, and she's used to being alone with her thoughts. It was all she knew for 14 years on Jakku, after all, although she thinks it may be more dangerous, now, as her mind stretches back to earlier in the day...

 _Finn's changed, she realizes with a start. The hesitant, slightly nervous smile on his face is the same, but unlike before, she can't bring herself to return it._ _"You're taller," she says instead._

 _Finn's gaze leaves her face for a moment before returning. It's a more endearing habit than she remembered. "You're a full-fledged Jedi."_

 _She nods, mulls over his words, and swallows. "Mostly, yes." Luke says she's not quite ready. That this mission will be an important step forward._

 _There's a lull, a silence, and for a moment she thinks he isn't going to say anything, that he's miraculously going to let the last time they talked to each other go, but then, "Rey, I stand by what I said."_

 _"And so do I," she says firmly, perhaps a bit more harshly than she meant to. "I'm here to fulfill my mission, and that's it. I don't know why Master Luke has insisted you escort me."_

 _Hurt flashes across Finn's face, his smile faltering. "Neither do I," he admits, shrugging. "But I'm glad."_

 _Rey doesn't know what to say to that, and is grateful when Chewbacca ambles over and gives Finn a bone-crushing hug. It gives her a chance to let the blush staining her cheeks, the warmth flooding her face, fade. And, worse, the way her lips want to twitch upwards into a tiny smile..._

Rey pushes the memory away and buries her face in the leather of the pilot's seat. Dwelling on the past, on what can absolutely not be changed, won't do either of them any good. Even if they are stranded on Hoth. She can hear Finn's footsteps along the ship over the wind, clanking along against the metal that hasn't been upended. Still, she worries when he's been out of her sight for at least 20 minutes.

 _You haven't see him in a year, and you've been just fine,_ she tells herself stubbornly. _20 minutes shouldn't make a difference, and certainly shouldn't make you_ worry _._

"I found some warmer clothes and medical supplies," Finn announces, his voice echoing and reaching her ears before she can see him. He flashes her smile as he walks over, two thick brown coats in his arms with a white first-aid kit on top.

"You seem oddly happy for someone's who stranded on Hoth," she says, her voice still weak. Finn looks at her, and then away as he takes one of the coats and drapes it over her shoulders. Despite her better judgement, Rey stares at him. Is...is he happy because he's with _her_? The thought is absurd, but... "You know, we can't stay here," she continues, even if her throat feels like gravel and it does nothing to release the emotions building up inside her. "Those First Order troops will come after us."

"Not in this blizzard," Finn says, sitting in the chair opposite her and prying open the first-aid kit. "Unless they want to meet the same fate as us, they'll wait until it subsides and that might be a while. Hold still, I need to get a look at your head."

Rey slips her arms into the sleeves of the coat, pulling it tighter around her as Finn rummages through the first-aid kit. He pulls out some bandages, some rubbing alcohol and a curious looking pill.

"Chew this, it'll help with the pain and chances of concussion," he explains. Rey regards it warily for a moment, but then pops it into her mouth and chews it. A bitter taste explodes over her mouth, and if she hadn't had years of eating disgusting fried lizards on the worst of days on Jakku, she would have spit it out. Finn grimaces. "I know, it's terrible," he says sympathetically.

She catches a glimpse of his wince when he inspects the back of her head. "It's small, at least." Rey feels his fingers in her hair, feels him undo the small ribbons, and then part her hair to get a closer look at the actual injury. She'll never dare say it out loud, but the way his fingers gently comb through her hair feels nice.

No one besides herself has ever really touched her hair. Pulling it into three knobs is practical, an efficient way of keeping it out of her face. On Jakku, there was never any reason to let her hair down, and Jedi training continued along the same vein. But here she is, sitting in a broken ship on Hoth, letting Finn touch her hair. And it feels _nice_.

Oh _damn_ him.

Rey stiffens as she feels a cloth damp with rubbing alcohol press against the injury, little droplets trailing down the nape of her neck. She knew it was going to hurt, being the only one to dress her own wounds for years, but it still stings, a sharp flare of pain. She doesn't cry out though. Her Jedi training has more than prepared her for pain, and besides, nothing can compare to what happened a year ago. Nothing will ever compare.

Rey doesn't realize she's crying until she feels the warmth of a tear against her freezing cheek, and hastily wipes it away, hoping Finn won't notice since he's too preoccupied with finishing up her head injury, and then immediately turns his attention to her leg. He doesn't notice, and she's not sure if she's relieved or disappointed.

His fingers are gentle, as always, as they poke and prod her ankle. It stings, but he doesn't seem too worried. "It seems like it's just a sprain," he reports, rising from his crouch. He was always a bit taller than her, but now with her sitting, she really has to look up to meet his eyes, and is surprised at the warmth, the fondness in them. "The pill will help with that too."

"Good," Rey murmurs, turning her eyes downcast.

"I'm going to go to the radios and see if I can send a message, and get the rest of the supplies and stuff," Finn says. He retracts his hands and swings his arms from side to side, as if not quite sure what to do with himself. Like a machine cog that's been chipped away and no longer fits in its spot.

Rey supposes they're both more than a little chipped now. "Okay," she nods. She's not used to feeling so helpless, so useless. But at least Finn's plan is exactly what she would have come up with, so she guesses it's not that bad. If she had to be stuck in this situation, she's mostly glad it's Finn. Mostly.

Finn turns to walk back into the rest of the ship, when he pauses, hovering in the doorway almost like a hologram. Not for the first time, she wonders if this is just a dream, and if she reaches out to touch him rather than the other way around, he'll slip through her fingers like sand. It's happened before, in her dreams. In the good dreams, he shatters. In the bad dreams, so does her heart.

"You know, now that we're stuck like this," he says slowly, glancing at her over his shoulder where a little line of snow has collected. She can see how carefully he's choosing his words, can see the gears turning in his head. She sees his Adam's apple bob as he swallows hard, as if the next few words are painful to say, before he turns his face away from her. "You can't ignore me forever."

She realizes once he's out of sight that he had given both jackets to her instead of taking one for herself, and part of her feels like crying. "I know," she mutters to herself, her eyes feeling wet and her throat feeling dry.

That's exactly what she's afraid of.


	2. The Cave

Constellations

* * *

chapter two:  
the cave

"The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek."  
― Joseph Campbell

* * *

Rey has never thought of the Falcon's cockpit to be roomy, but now it seems far too small. Sitting in the co-pilot seat, Finn's less than a foot away, so close she could reach out and touch him. The food supplies he had found in the far nooks and crannies of the ship are still in their boxes, tucked away near the flying controls and Rey has her injured leg propped up on top of them. He sent out a S.O.S. message, but he's not sure if it was received; Hoth's intense weather might have messed up the signal. But, Finn had pointed out, it won't take long for the Resistance to realize the 2nd Jedi in the entire galaxy has gone missing. Rey wishes he wouldn't discount himself, but she doesn't say so. It's too hard to get words out. It's too hard to do much of anything.

"How's your leg?" Finn asks, after an almost unbearably long stretch of silence, and they're so close she has no trouble hearing him over the wind, although the howl has been receding over the past few hours or so. The snow has shown no signs of stopping though, collecting on the floor below the gaping hole in the Falcon's roof and lining everything else. She's been hoping Finn's silence would hold, but apparently not.

"Better," Rey shrugs. That pill he had given her must have been doing its job.

"And you're warm enough?"

"I'm fine Finn," Rey says softly. "You don't need to worry about me."

"I know, I just can't help it," Finn replies, ducking his head. Rey's first thought is that he's embarrassed, but then she realizes the fear simmering underneath his eyes. The fear he still holds onto, even now, that he'll lose her somehow. She can't bring herself to meet his eyes. "Ever since Kylo..."

Rey turns away from him, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders and sighs. She doesn't need the reminder. It already haunts her in the night, already has permanently scarred her body. She's reminded every time she looks in the mirror, at the jagged scar running down her side. "That was a over a year ago―"

"Before," Finn corrects her. "At Maz's. When I was going to...to leave. But when I ran back, and the Resistance came, I saw Kylo taking you onto his ship and I just...I lost it." He shrugs, his eyes going to her face and then to the floor, flickering back and forth like a candle. A nervous habit, she notes. Is he as uncomfortable as she is?

Rey doesn't know what to say. She doesn't really trust herself to speak, so she lets the silence hang between them before she says, "Once the blizzard dies down, we'll need to find some kind of sanctuary. There should be some caves in the mountains."

"Stormtroopers were trained to survive any environment," Finn says, nodding. "Especially extreme ones. I know a bit since I worked primarily on the Starkiller base, and it was winter there all the time. We didn't have to watch out for Wampas though."

"Wamp―what?" Rey tilts her head to the side. The creature sounds vaguely familiar, and she thinks Luke might've mentioned it once. Something about the cold and Han Solo cutting open a tauntaun?

"You'll know it when you see it," Finn says. "And it'll be no match for your Jedi skills. So, what's Jedi training like anyway?"

"I've made my own lightsaber," Rey reaches towards her belt and pulls out the hilt. The metal seems to hum with energy, activated by her touch only, a light tingle on her fingers. She can feel the power her weapon holds, even more than Luke's lightsaber that while powerful hadn't been crafted by her own hand. This, this is an extension of herself, and her own experience of the Force, in a way that nothing else has never been. Besides, Luke's lightsaber had been wielded by his father, Anakin, and then later on before her, Finn. This lightsaber's felt no one's touch but her own.

 _This weapon is your life,_ Luke had said. _Keep it close._

With that in mind, Rey clips it to her belt again.

"It took me a few tries to get it right," Rey adds, a trace of fondness in her voice forcing a quirk of her lips, twitching upwards. Few was an understatement, the actual total being 10, but Finn didn't need to know that. There were lots of things Finn couldn't know... "But I finally got it."

"So, why aren't you a fully trained Jedi yet?" Finn asks, studying the hilt of the lightsaber curiously, and then her.

Her heart pounds under his gaze. "A Jedi must be able to master their own emotions," Rey explains, looking away from him. "You see how explosive Kylo is, from the influence of the Dark Side. Master says I still have a little trouble, sometimes, keeping them under control. And with staying patient, too."

After waiting on Jakku in vain for 14 years, Rey's more than tired of waiting. She doesn't want to have to wait any longer, to avenge Han, to take down Kylo, to end the war and hopefully live her life the way she wants. To give Finn the explanation he deserves.

"We also have to learn to let go of attachments," Rey says quietly, her eyes growing sad. A lump forms in her throat. "Jedi are allowed to have them, to some degree, we just can't let them control us..."

Finn frowns at her, and she can see hurt flash across his face. "Well, that's not a problem anymore for you, is it?"

Rey's eyes harden as she swallows the lump in her throat. "Finn, that's not fair."

"If you would just tell me _why,_ " Finn says, his voice laced with frustration and hurt. "It's not the attachment thing, I know it's not, because you haven't even looked at me in a year, and you say it's not my fault, but it has to be, somehow. Is it because I told you I-"

"I've told you it's not that," Rey snaps. They've been over this before, but it hurts more every time, so much more than the dull throb of her leg or her head, that pain pales in comparison to the ache growing in her heart. "You _know_ that-"

"I wish I could know that," Finn grumbles. His shoulders slump forwards as his eyes turn downcast. There's a heavy silence, and Rey knows she should be used to silence, growing up alone on Jakku, being left for hours to do meditation and just bask in silence, but it seems to tighten around her throat like a noose.

Finally, after a long moment, Finn looks at up her, his features sad, and guilty too, and it only makes her feel worse. "I'm sorry," he says finally. "That was uncalled for, you―you're right. I... I still want to be your friend, so I have to act like a friend, and I didn't, and I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Rey murmurs. "But it - it has to be this way. For now, at least."

Finn chews on his bottom lip for a moment, and looks up at her, his eyes lit up with cautious hope. "Maybe I can change your mind about that."

"Finn―" she says warningly.

"You can't stop me from trying to get you back, Rey," he says, almost pleading with her. "We'll be stuck here for a week at least...and I - I miss you. I miss my best friend."

She softens, his words cracking her armour, the crevice widening as that hopeful light grows, and she can't bring herself to snuff it out. At least not right now. She ducks her head and turns her eyes away from him. "I...suppose that's true. I can't stop you from trying."

Finn looks slightly satisfied. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." The silence that follows unnerves her, and it takes her a moment to realize why, until she figures out that it actually is silent. The wind's stopped howling. Even the snow, which has left a thick carpet over the metal floor of the Falcon, underneath the gaping hole in the roof, has stopped paused, momentarily at least.

"The First Order'll come soon," Finn says, following her train of thought, and he rises from his chair, stretching. He unslings his blaster from where it's rested on his back with a simple leather band across his chest. "I'm going to go scope out the area, look for caves, and then I'll come back for you, okay?"

"I don't like the idea of you going out alone," she says softly, looking up at him worriedly.

Finn gives her a reassuring smile. "I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone, but I know you can handle yourself. And so can I. Besides, I don't want you walking more than you have to. How else is your leg going to heal?"

Rey frowns, crossing her arms lightly over her chest. "Alright," she says reluctantly. "Just be safe, and―" The words catch her throat and her voice dies down.

 _And come back to me._

Finn gives her another smile, and she thinks maybe he understands, but before she can find anything else to say over the large lump rising in her throat, he he tugs up the hood of his thick winter coat, and trudges out into the snow. She knows he'll be back. Finn always comes back.

That's part of the problem.

* * *

 _"Rey!"_

 _A joyful laugh spills out of his mouth, which is stretched in a smile as he crosses the landing field. He nearly slams into her as soon as she disembarks from the Millennium Falcon with Luke Skywalker in tow. Finn skids to a halt in front of her, his arms half-raised and he holds them awkwardly in an offer that's anything but half-hearted._

 _Rey simply shakes her head at his nervousness, a grin spreading across her face as she steps into his arms and hugs him tightly. "It's good to see you." She takes care not to squeeze too hard_ ― _it's been six months since she's seen him last, five since he woke up from his coma from Kylo, his injury healed and his body restored_ ― _but she still doesn't want to agitate that wound._ _She doesn't want to cause him more pain._

 _Finn nuzzles into her shoulder, his nose pressing into her collarbone. "I missed you so much," he mumbles, the sound muffled, his breath foggy and warm on a sliver of skin that the collar of her vest doesn't cover. His hands are warm and dry, not damp and chilly like the island she and Luke have spent the past six months on, where rain is a common occurrence._

 _She can't wait to tell him about it. She's fairly positive that Finn's seen rain before, but there's still so much they don't know about the world, and each other, and she can't wait to share all those things with him. She's never had anyone to share anything with before._

 _"I missed you too," she says, her hands curling the fabric of his jacket. It had once been Poe's, Finn had told her through a holocom. But she's only ever known it as his, felt the loose leather draped across her shoulders briefly on Starkiller Base, and just like his jacket, as much as she loves BB-8 and as much as Luke has become a dear friend to her, Finn is her first. Her best._

 _Finally, she peels away after what must have been an eternity but really feels like no time at all. "I have so much to tell you!"_

 _"So do I," Finn replies and she thinks he might be incapable of speaking without smiling, and he's shining like stars with a warm happiness that reflected in her own face, and it warms her to her core, starting in her chest and then throughout her whole body._

 _She's never missed anyone before. She couldn't miss her parents as she couldn't remember them. But Finn...she had thought about him every single day, wondering how his recovery was going, fondly thinking of his smile. They just stare at each other for a moment, drinking in the image of each other_ ― _safe, alive,_ here― _before she realizes they've been doing it for a couple of minutes without saying anything._

 _Heat rushes to her face. "You first," she says, and her wide grin softens as Finn starts talking a mile a minute, and despite her worries about their friendship ―knowing each other for 3 days in a crazy whirlwind of blasters and disasters, and then six months apart with little to no contact isn't how people usually start off a friendship, is it?― she can more than keep up with him, with his bright eyes and easy smiles. She knows she's missed him, but she doesn't think she let herself feel quite how much she did until suddenly she doesn't have to miss him anymore. Missing people, liking people, and having a friend is a strange, but certainly not unwelcome sensation._

 _They'll be alright, she feels it in her gut, in the Force, her own energy reaching out to intertwine with his, partially subconsciously, the rest out of choice. His energy reaches back quickly, finds hers and holds on tightly, as they weave together, and it spreads more of that same warmth, and she's never felt happier than she does in this moment..._

"Rey?"

She jerks from her slumber, blinking away the bleariness. How could she have been so stupid as to fall asleep? The exertion of the crash must have gotten to her, and irritably, she thinks maybe Jedi training, as hard as it is, has turned her soft. Nothing keeps you more alert than the scorching sands of Jakku.

Luke has said the Force connects to emotions, people, memories, binding them together like the weaving of yarn in the grand tapestry of the universe. That the Force can show her visions of the past, the present, and the future... whether she sought it out or not. This is one of those times she has definitely not done so of her own accord. Now is not the time to be looking back on memories with nostalgia, not when she's already weakened emotionally enough.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she tries to push those dangerous thoughts from her head, ("Do, or do not, there is no try," Luke always says) as she looks up at Finn. "Hmm?" she hums, her voice still groggy from her impromptu nap. The cold settles back into her bones, and she hates the way Finn's soft little smile gives back a piece of warmth, as her cheeks are stained with red.

"I think I found a good cave," he explains. Specks of snow are scattered across his face, dissolving into droplets of water. His boots are caked with snow, and his lips are blue, but he seems alright otherwise. "We better get moving."

"How long were you gone?" Rey asks, pulling herself out of her sleepy daze. The memories make her throat burn, and she'd rather freeze than go in up flames.

"Only an hour at most," Finn shrugs. He takes a few boxes into his arms. "D'you think you'll be able to walk? The pill should have done its job by now."

Cautiously, Rey plants one foot on the ground and her injured ankle doesn't bend under the weight. "I'll be fine," she assures him, and zips up her own winter jacket.

She takes some of their supplies in their arms, and they trek out into the snow together with Finn in the lead. Rey takes special care to make sure she follows in his footsteps, her boots mirroring the holes in the snow his have already made. Walking single file hides your numbers, and hopefully the First Order will assume there's a lot more of them than just the two of them.

The cave Finn leads her to is a small dent in the craggy, snow covered surface of the mountain, low set to the ground yet slightly raised on a snow mound. "Advantage of the high ground," he says, as they stagger up the slippery slope. At least the snow is so thick they can't get to any of the ice, surely buried far underneath, just waiting to trip them up. Still, their boots don't have the best grip. Rey uses the Force once or twice to keep herself balanced, and Finn's larger body mass keeps him from being budged too easily, but they're both panting by the time they reach the crest of the hill and stare into the mouth of the cave. Finn ducks to avoid the slope of the opening, and when they inside, Rey thinks she can see something glittering the dark, thin and white and...

"Are those bones?" she blinks in surprise, after she and Finn have set down their boxes along one wall of stone and ice.

"Wampa bones. Part of the reason I chose this cave. Whatever lived in here is dead, luckily for us," Finn stoops down and picks up a few of the bones. They must have been here for a long time, as any pieces of fur or flesh is gone. Maybe they've been picked clean by something else, a bigger Wampa, Rey wonders. "But their bones are also flammable, I think."

Rey grins. "So, it's the perfect firewood."

Finn smiles back at her and for a moment it feels just like old times. Before everything went wrong. "Exactly."

Rey's smile falters. "Let's get started then."

Once they've set down all their supplies, and gotten the bones into a makeshift fire (the lighter being a quick buzz of Rey's lightsaber) the flickering flames illuminate the dark walls of the cave. Chunks of ice are seared into the wall, glowing a luminescent blue that casts strange shadows over Finn's face.

Rey wonders just how long they'll be in the cave. How long she'll have to wait, until she can let down this front. At least not until Finn is gone. At least not until the war is over.

And, after all, no matter how much she wishes otherwise, she knows all about waiting.


	3. The Fire

Constellations

* * *

chapter three:  
the fire

"Love is friendship set on fire." ―Jeremy Taylor

* * *

As the sky darkens and the snow picks up, the oddest thought enters Finn's head: blanket forts. It brings a smile to his lips as he glances over at Rey across the fire, and she looks up at him with questioning eyes. "What is it?" she tilts her head to the side slightly, and he wonders if she has any idea how adorable she is? Probably not, but he's painfully aware of it. "Finn?" she presses, and he remembers what he was going to say.

Darn her distracting cuteness.

"Oh, yeah," his smile turns nervous. "Just, this may be kind of weird, but... Do you remember how we used to make blanket forts?"

Rey blinks, taken aback. "Yes?"

"We'd take our bunk mattresses and pillows and sheets and string them all together, and you'd use the Force to keep them secure until I had knotted them properly," Finn's smile grows and he can see a tiny one forming on her lips. "And you tried to hit me with a pillow―"

"Try?" Rey laughs softly. "I succeeded―"

"Yeah, for maybe 5 seconds, and then I pinned you remember?" Rey lets out a loud laugh, shaking her head slightly, and the sound warms him to the core and makes his heart skip a beat. Time, it seems, has done nothing to dull his feelings for her. If anything, it's only made them stronger. And, as he thinks back to that heart-pounding moment of her weight tucked securely under his, he remembers how it was the first time he realized just how badly he wanted to kiss her.

Finn pushes that thought out of his head. Rey's made it clear that thoughts like those won't do either of them any good. Still, at least maybe, they can rebuild their friendship, and he can figure out whatever made him lose it in the first place.

Rey's eyes crinkle at the corners even as her smile fades, and Finn can feel himself burning up under her gaze, never mind how cold the rest of the planet is. Most people wouldn't count crash-landing on the ice planet of Hoth with the First Order surely on their tails as lucky, but as an ex-Stormtrooper ―the first to defect and survive to tell the tale― Finn isn't exactly 'most people' and it suits him just fine. Rey is quite unusual in her own right. They both are, and―what was that saying? Birds of a feather flock together? Or something about X-wings?

Finn thinks about who he was before Rey, in that little deep space in between leaving FN-2187 behind and becoming Finn. Alone, most likely dying of thirst, and lost in more ways than one. A soldier abandoning his army, a man without a purpose except to run away as far as possible. Rey, a lonely scavenger, adept at surviving far more than human relations, who was an expert at collecting lost things. And somewhere along the way, she'd collected his heart. Finn has no plans of taking it back. He just hopes that isn't exactly what's driven her away.

Part of him wants to press it, and get answers, or at least somehow make his feelings more clear, but there's that light in her eyes and he hasn't seen it in so long. He'll do anything to make sure it stays. Loving someone, he supposes, makes your own pain for their sake more bearable. Enough that he hasn't broken under the pressure (yet, anyway).

"How long do you think we have until the First Order starts looking for us?" Rey says, the light in her eyes dying, and he realizes his silence gave her the chance to remember where she is. Who she's with. For the millionth time, he wonders why she insists on shutting him out.

"A day, maybe two," Finn says. "They'll poke around the crash for a while. I don't suppose the weather's blocking out the Force?"

"No...but it does make it fuzzy," Rey says grumpily. "Like I said, I'm almost fully trained. Once I grow stronger in the Force I'll be able to tap into it no matter what the weather, as long as I can let go of emotions to do so. That's when it's most reliable, at least. I've been trying to reach out to Luke, but..."

"We have the advantage of the high ground at least," Finn says, and smiles, but it comes out looking a little sad. "And―and we have each other."

Rey's eyes soften, and then shine and as she says, very softly, "I suppose we do."

* * *

 _Finn's never sat on anything so soft before. The beds of the First Order barracks are sturdy and hard, and the one he had for three months in the Resistance's infirmary was rigid against his injured back, even if he was sure it was actually far softer. The mattress in his quarters is nice, very nice even, but here, lying on the pillows he and Rey carpeted the floor with...this is the best place ever to fall asleep._

 _Finn can no longer count on one hand how many blanket forts they've made together, and he wonders if this is what a real childhood felt like. What regular people had. Not heavy sleek helmets and rigid memorization and learning how to fire blasters. Or learning to scavenge and build machines and survive in the desert. Maybe he and Rey are late bloomers, but at least they're having fun and figuring out this childhood thing together._

 _Poe cares greatly for both of them, and vice versa, but there are some things he can't understand, not in the same way Finn and Rey can for each other, and this time, just talking or lying, being alone, is Finn's favourite time of the day. Rey's lying on her back, her arm and leg brushing his, just barely touching, but he feels her heat seared into his skin, knows he'll trace the places with his fingers thoughtfully afterwards, stare at his hands and try to memorize the feel of her palm and fingers against his._

 _Especially since she'll be gone for two weeks for some sort of special Jedi training, and then three days before she'll be arriving back he'll be jetting off on a mission of his own with Poe, scoping out some kind of intel for the Resistance. They'll just miss each other. He tries not to think how easily they could have missed each other on Jakku, a blip that sped by. He wonders if the Force made sure they meet. He's considered asking, but he also knows he doesn't have a great understanding of how the Force works, and he can't seem to make the words form in his mouth. It feels too personal, or vulnerable, or silly somehow, to suggest that it was the grand plan of the universe that brought him and Rey together, yet he finds some part of him believing it anyhow._

 _Even if she may not be his whole universe, she's his sun._

 _"Finn?" Rey's voice is soft, like the gentle touch of her fingers, sliding against his. His fingers curl around hers, squeeze, the warmth and comfort seeping into his skin._

 _"Yeah?" he hums, turning his head to look at her. Her eyes are glassy as their gazes meet, and he realizes she's on the verge of tears. Before he can ask what's wrong, she answers it for him._

 _"I'm really going to miss you."_

 _Oh. Finn gives her hand another squeeze and swallows. This is going to be the longest they've been apart since that first six months when Rey had been training on Ach-To with Luke, and it had been nearly unbearable to wait, and he'd been passed out for half of it. And in the three months they've been together, they've only grown closer._

 _Finn takes his time lacing his fingers through hers, keeping their gazes locked the whole time. "Rey," her name, a single warm syllable that will always be safe in his mouth, that he will never get tired of saying, and the gentleness of his tone catches her off guard for a moment, before her sad expression softens into one that's a little more sweet. "I'm going to miss you too. But we have memories now, and I_ ― _I'm okay now."_

 _Rey smiles a little and it warms him to the core. "Just keep coming back to me, okay?"_

 _Finn returns her smile with a soft, broad grin. "Always," he promises. She gives his hand a squeeze, loosens her grip, but doesn't completely pull away, and shifts closer slightly, to rest her head slightly on his shoulder. There's a bunch of pillows around them, but Finn doesn't mind being hers. Not in the slightest._

 _Her other hand is suddenly resting on his chest, and Rey adjusts her position slightly, and leans in and kisses him softly on the cheek for a few seconds, before pulling away with a rosy blush colouring her cheeks. (Or maybe it's just the string of lights they've hung above their heads, playing tricks on his eyes.) Finn grins at her, heat rushing to his cheeks, burning him up from the inside, and he thinks for a moment that maybe Rey is fire._

* * *

She's still fire, Finn realizes, staring into the flames of their campfire that dull in comparison to her. He wishes he knew back then that when you play, when you fall in love with fire, you're bound to get burned. Her scorch marks are still all over him, ingrained in his mind, traced over his memories, the taste of ashes on his tongue and lips, even though he's never gotten to feel hers against them.

Finn shivers from the cold and knows it has nothing to do with the weather outside. He watches Rey for a few moments, as the softness fades from her eyes, watches as she drifts off into sleep, tired from the crash and her body from healing. A few hours later when she wakes up, she stays up to keep watch, and they take turns throughout the night. On their most recent switch, Finn keeps his gaze trained outside the cave, since it's nice to have their fire, with Wampa bones reapplied every hour or so, warming his back, and it's a more efficient way to be on the lookout anyway.

The snow and wind have finally stopped, the white carpet covering the planet smooth and untouched. The sky is so clear, so bright, stars shining brilliantly. Finn can pick out a few constellations, his brain connecting the pictures star maps both at the First Order and the Resistance had depicted, but nothing can compare with seeing them up close. One of the best things about joining the Resistance was getting to hear the stories behind the constellations, of animals and bravery and tragic lovers. The First Order had never bothered to say anything like that existed. Rey had told him the legends behind the Jakku constellations, and Poe had filled in with what he knew. Finn plays a sort of game to pass the hours, seeing what names and stories he remembers.

Finn sighs when he realizes he mostly remembers the constellations with love stories behind them, and everything is confusing and frustrating as it is, and he doesn't need any happily ever afters (or tragic deaths) clouding his judgement. Is what he's doing even smart? To try and reignite that fire, their friendship―relationship, or whatever it had been before she abruptly ended it? What could they have been if she hadn't? Is it worth trying to find that again? Is it worth putting himself at risk again? Or would it be smarter to just do what she's done, and give up on whatever they are and let go and move on?

But he had made a promise. It didn't matter the circumstances, it didn't―doesn't, matter that she's left of her own accord, for reasons that he is both sure and doubtful of, their sturdiness. He'll come back for her, he'll bring her back to him. Somehow, he'll find a way.

Rey's smile, her laugh... Clearly, whatever their situation is, she dislikes it just as much as he does. Finn wonders if it's better that he doesn't know why, if the explanation weighs heavily on her small yet strong shoulders. But, he reminds himself, that doesn't matter. If he can't take her burden away completely, the least he can do is share it.

It's with that resolve that he knows however long they're on Hoth, likely a week, but perhaps more, is not going to be a missed opportunity. He's not going to let Rey slip through his fingers again.

Not again.


	4. The Silence

Constellations

* * *

chapter four: the silence

"To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves."  
―Federico García Lorca

* * *

They're up a few hours before the sun is. If things were cold before, this is frigid. Rey almost finds herself wishing for the sweltering sands of Jakku as she and Finn trudge out of their cave, and out into the snow. Going down the slope is much easier than going up, and they reach the hull of the Falcon in record time. By now, Rey's leg, however injured it had been, is healed, so all she has to watch out for is ice, and Wampas, whatever those may be. She thinks they'll be lucky if she doesn't have to find out, however.

"Has the First Order been here?" Rey asks, as she and Finn come upon the downed ship.

"Nah," Finn says, trudging through the thick carpet of snow collected on the Falcon's hull. "No footprints. And we would've seen them send some kind of pod or ship down anyway. The weather did its trick. They might not even know we crashed, actually. We should check the messaging system though, see if we got through or if the Resistance's noticed something's wrong."

Their hologram system emits a noise of static, fizzling in and out of intense and quiet. Nothing's come through from the Resistance either, but the Falcon's tracking light is still blinking, so that's a good sign. Once the Resistance gets worried, they'll know where to find them.

At the moment, Rey can't find it in her to be worried about anything than having to spend at least a week entirely in Finn's company. It's one thing to push him away when they're already systems apart. It's another thing entirely to have to do it when there's only a few feet in between, and even though he's not asking every question she knows he wants to, she can still feel them pressing on her. Clogging up her throat and making it harder to breathe.

Not that it's his fault. By the stars, none of this is his fault. It's hers. It's all hers.

The metal of the Falcon has grown slick with ice, and maybe it's because three years away can't get rid of fourteen years on a desert planet, but Rey really doesn't think about treading carefully as she walks. She takes two steps before she feels her heel slip and her weight is thrown off balance, and prepares herself for a cold, hard crash to the ground. Instead, she finds herself enveloped by steady warmth, Finn's arms lightly under hers and he lifts her back onto her feet.

"Careful, Rey." His voice is as warm as his body, as is the smile on his face. He looks somewhat proud of himself for catching her ―after all, the first two times they had been in danger, she had been the one saving him― and then a little confused, but pleased, when she doesn't pull away.

"Y-yeah." Rey curses herself for the pink colouring her cheeks as she steps away, but keeps less distance in between them then before. For safety purposes, obviously. Yeah, that's it.

"Once we get back to the cave, I should check your head injury," Finn tells her, as they trudge back through the snow, away from the fallen spaceship. "Just in case."

Rey remembers that Finn was in Sanitation on Starkiller Base, and that as part of his training he also learned quite a bit of first aid. She remembers he had told her it was important a Stormtrooper squad leader be able to administer any amount of first aid needed with minimal materials. But mostly she remembers laughing so hard her stomach hurt when he had made a face, telling her about having to work in the garbage disposal department in his first days on the ship.

She's missed him. There's no harm in admitting that, is there? (She ignores the part of her brain that says yes.)

Rey can't find it in her to admit it as the days crawl by. They spend most of their time managing their supplies, making sure they don't eat or drink too much. They sleep when they can and head out to the Falcon every other day. One day the see big, deep footprints in the show: Wampa tracks. They steer clear of the trail. They've spent another four days in the cave, and Rey can feel herself losing it. Even with the weather, she can reach out and tap into the ebb and flow of the Force, and it's keeping her somewhat sane.

The silence kills her, though. It stretches between them for hours. Sometimes Finn initiates conversation, but it's mostly reminiscing. _Remember when it rained for the first time at the Resistance Base, and we ran out in played in it? Remember the first blanket fort we built? Remember when we stole cookies from the rations kitchen? Remember_ ―

Rey doesn't need the reminders. She's never forgotten. Hearing him speak so enthusiastically makes her smile though, and she joins in, talking and laughing with him, just like in the old days, until the happiness becomes too heavy and she remembers everything that's happened since then. How is it possible a year and a half can change what she thought would always be permanent? She thought Finn would always be by her side. And he wants to be, and she wants him to be, too. It's all the more frustrating.

She remembers all the smaller moments, too. Her not liking the weird squishy peas and loving the cold, juicy berries, and Finn being the opposite, so they'd always trade at mealtimes. Her leaning heavily on him as they walked back inside the base, sopping wet with rain. Her teaching him how to be her co-pilot, him lending her his jacket whenever she was cold, which was often because the base didn't have very good heating, and Jakku nights had been cool, not cold. Finn's fingers warm around her wrist, his arms warm around her because she has found out that hugs are wonderful, beautiful things and he's been just as deprived as she is. Fighting back to back in battle, searching for him afterwards only for him, limping but alive, to find her first. Holding his hand and realizing that she never wants to let go.

But she has to.

Rey can hear Luke's voice perfectly in her head, and thinks maybe it's the Force, as it instructs, _You must learn to control your emotions. Your attachments cannot burden you._ But she also knows this isn't what he meant. That attachments are good. That they're what brought Anakin Skywalker back to the Light Side.

She's snapped out of her stupor by Finn's voice, quiet and curious. "Can you feel the lightsaber through the Force?"

Rey looks at him. "I can feel my own. But the one we're looking for...No. There's nothing, which is a little strange." No thrum or feeling in the Force. As much as she knows the weather might somehow be interfering, it's odd that there's nothing. "Although that might just be because it's ancient... Luke says that Stormtroopers used to be Clones. They fought alongside the Jedi."

"D'you think if we had been born back then...things would be different?" Finn meets her eyes.

"Some things," Rey gives him a small smile. "We'd still be friends." She realizes her slip a second too late.

"Still?" The single syllable is full of cautious hope, and some part of Rey's heart crashes and burns at the sound of it.

"Yeah," she says thickly, over the lump rising in her throat. "I―I know I haven't been acting like it, but I―I still think of you as my best friend, Finn." She drops his gaze and stares at her hands, which are clasped in her lap. She's on the edge of dangerous territory. "I miss you."

There's a slight rustle of cloth as Finn gets up from his sitting position on the other edge of the cave, and gets on his knees in front of her. "You don't have to." He's close, so very close, his gaze burning into her, trying to get her to look him in the eye. "You're my best friend, Rey. Why can't we go back to the way we were? We..." She feels tears build in her eyes as his voice breaks and then tightens to piece itself back together. "We were happy."

Rey feels his fingers curl under her jaw, and she lets him lift her head so she's looking him in the face. His eyes are full of so much affection and warmth, she can feel the chill that's seeped into her bones thaw for the first time since they had crash-landed on this planet. His hand moves gently to cup her cheek, and a tear leaks out and trickles down her cheek.

"Yeah," she manages out, her voice shaking as much as her hands. "We were."

Finn strokes his thumb gently over the curve of her cheek. "Why can't we go back to the way we were?" he pleads.

Rey swallows hard. "It's not that simple Finn―" he's close, far too close, and she can feel her resolve shaking. "I wish it was, I do―"

"I did something wrong, didn't I?" Finn says, and his voice cracks. Rey pries his hand away and shakes her head, closing her eyes. "This is my fault."

"No, no you didn't," she chokes out. "I swear you didn't―"

"Then why're you pushing me away?" Finn's reaching for her again, but Rey stands up and takes a few steps away from them, trying to get air back into her lungs and her heart back into control. "What am I supposed to think Rey?"

"You're supposed to trust me," she cries, keeping her back turned.

"Oh of course." Anger creeps into his voice. "Even though you don't trust me." His hand is on her shoulder, still gentle ―always gentle― but firmly towards her back towards him. His brow is furrowed in frustration, but there's a sadness in his eyes. "You ignore me and shut me out and I'm just supposed to trust that whatever the reason you have for it is good enough? That there's any reason we shouldn't be friends anymore? I can't believe that."

"This hurts me just as much as it hurts you," Rey snaps. "You think I like doing this? Why are you making it harder than it already is?" Every time his smile falters, or hurt flashes across his face when she's had to shut him down, again and again and again...it pierces her heart like an icicle. It hurts more than any wound she's ever received.

She wraps her arms around herself in a kind of sad, half-hearted hug, blinking back tears. She digs her fingers into her left side, wincing slightly from the pressure, even after the wound has been healed for over a year. Rey wonders if the scar on Finn's back from Kylo's lightsaber ―another snowy planet, only that time they had fought and fallen together, not stood up wounded but apart― hurts still, after three years.

"Rey..." His fingers, warm and soft, skim the slope of her palm, and the action is enough for her to unfold from herself. She looks at him, her throat tight. "I just want you back."

All the anger is gone, from both of them. Not for the first time, she wants to give in. Tell him the truth, all of it. Then at least he'd understand. But, she knows, he'd only push harder, and she wouldn't be able to resist anymore, and it wouldn't fix anything. Nothing beyond their hearts, maybe, but not their lives. Not the mess they're in.

"I just want my best friend back," Finn continues, his voice barely audible. He hesitantly takes her hand, and she lets him. "I'm not asking for anything else."

"I've told you, it's not that," Rey tells him miserably. He runs his thumb along the back of her hand.

"And I wish I could believe that," Finn says. "But all I know is you start pushing me away right after..." Rey knows what he's going to say next, feels the dread bury and build itself in her stomach. "Is it because I told you I loved you?"

Her heart lodges itself in her throat. She tries to speak, but no sound has come out, because there's no more room for plausible deniability. It's out there, not spoken in the med-bay, not in a place where she can run away again. They still have a few more days and she'll have to look at him, every hour, knowing that once upon a time he loved her. He loved her with everything he had, every beautiful part of him ―and she had to throw it away, and pretend it didn't matter.

But it does. It always will.

The silence that follows is suffocating, and Finn's nod of disappointed acceptance makes it even worse. "I wasn't asking you to feel the same way." She can't look at him, so she focuses on their hands, and tightly grips his.

 _I know._

"I just wanted you to know."

 _And I wanted to say it back. I did._

"Rey..." Finn sighs heavily. "I still love you."

She looks up at him, shock written all over her tear-stained face. "W-what―"

They both jump at the sound of a strangled cry that's more of a screech than a roar. Lurking outside the cave, at least 8 feet tall, is a big furry creature with a crude grey kind of face that Rey has never seen before. And there's two others behind it, growling. Finn unslings his blaster and Rey follows his lead, shoving her emotions down for the moment, and unclipping her sabre.

"And that's a wampa," Finn says irritatingly.

"Think we can handle three?"

"I guess we'll find out."

They charge together.


	5. The Truth

Constellations

* * *

chapter five: the truth

"The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and therefore should be treated with great caution." ―J.K. Rowling

* * *

The Wampas are hulking masses of fur and muscle, and Finn really wishes they could have remained something he had only seen in pictures or holograms. Finn keeps his blaster tucked close to his side, finding it the most efficient way to aim, and hears the hum of Rey's lightsaber as it thrums with energy. He and Rey move forward in sync, like a well oiled machine.

(Finn remembers Rey explaining the basics of mechanics to him, how a machine had to be perfectly fit together in order to work. _All the pieces have to go together,_ she had said. _A perfect fit._ Shortly afterwards they had sat up at the Resistance Base and looked up at the stars, and she had laced her fingers through his: a perfect fit.)

He fires off his blaster and it grazes the first Wampa's shoulder. Bellowing in rage, the creature smacks its fist hard against them cave wall and Finn swears cracks form in the stone.

"We gotta get out of the cave," Rey hisses, tightening her grip on her lightsaber. "As long as we're inside―"

"They have the advantage," Finn finishes, and Rey nods. Even after a year apart, they're still able to know exactly what's going on inside the other person's head―in battle, at least. "Falcon positions?" he suggests, and Rey gives him a quick nod. It's their default plan, how they survived flying the Falcon out of Jakku, and it usually works. Rey drives it forward, and Finn covers them.

Rey dodges the first Wampa's swipe and then slashes upwards with her lightsaber, only to miss. Finn doesn't though, firing off his blaster and nailing the Wampa in its arm. The creature howls in pain and stumbles backwards; Rey weaves under its arm, pushing forwards towards the other two Wampas. Rey's always been lithe, taking on opponents usually bigger than her, and this is no different, not only really. And now, she has the person she trusts most watching her back.

Finn pulls the trigger and this time aims for the Wampa's face. The beast staggers forwards and Finn ducks underneath its flailing arms. Now there are two Wampas blocking the exit, now they're surrounded, and Finn finds himself working on instinct rather than thought as he and Rey move so they're back to back.

"Alternate?" Rey says quietly in his ear, even as she keeps her eyes trained on the threat surrounding them. She slashes with her sabre, and Finn follows up with a shot from his blaster, rinse and repeat, alternating with every heartbeat like a perfectly timed machine.

The Wampas can't keep up with the constant onslaught. Hissing, the smell of burnt fur colouring the dry, chilly air, the two Wampas at the entrance of the cave stagger backwards. Finn watches their backs, bringing up the rear and keeping the first Wampa, still in the cave, from getting too close to them or its brethren.

A gust of icy wind hits his back as he feels Rey take a few steps forward, the thrum of her lightsaber buzzing faintly in his ears over the wind. They've made it out of the cave, or at least she has. Now, their size provides nothing but advantages.

Rey whips her lightsaber around in a wide arc, and then slashes downwards; it lops off one of the Wampa's arms. Rey doesn't even pause before striking again, embedding her blade into the same Wampa's stomach. She twists it in, and then lets it drag as she wrenches it out. It's gory, but necessary, as the Wampa moans in pain, its beady eyes half-closed. Rey scrambles out of the body's way as it slumps forward in the snow.

Finn catches her by her forearm and helps her steady herself, a moment of contact that only lasts a second at the most but it feels like an eternity, warm fingers pressing into her cold arm, burning through her coat and arm wrappings. Rey shrugs it off―ignoring her feelings is practically second nature by this point―and focuses on the two remaining Wampas, who just seem enraged that she's killed one of their pack, or whatever they are.

As Rey bats away one of the angered Wampa's strikes, her lightsaber grazing its arm as Finn's shot sinks into its left shoulder with a spurt of scarlet that spilled over onto the white snow. The only uninjured Wampa roars as the other weakly tries to defend itself. Now it really is a fair fight, just two-on-two.

"You take one, I take the other?" Finn breathes, even as he fights to catch his breath. The air is dry and cold in his lungs, even as beads of sweat slide down his neck.

"Read my mind," Rey replies, and they move forwards as one, even if they step in opposite directions. Rey veers off to the left, while Finn lunges on his right, battling against the Wampas, one on either side of them. They're back to back again, and Finn knows his gun is running out of ammo. Luckily, Rey's lightsaber doesn't have that problem, so she handles the Wampa that hasn't been hurt.

Finn knows by now that a desperate animal really is more dangerous, even if the Wampa has lost the ability to move its injured arm, it still leaves another tonne of heavy muscle and fur to swing around. He's cautious at best, despite knowing that Rey can not only handle herself, but watch his back as well.

Perhaps that's why, as Rey lops off the arm of the Wampa she's handling ―the creature collapses in a howl of pain― Finn starts to let his guard down. Two-on-one is far easier to manage. He glances back at her for a moment and grins, and then―

Claws rake across his arm, tearing fabric and flesh and his fingers loosen their hold on his blaster. Drops of scarlet blood hits the snow, and blearily, it reminds him of Kylo, on the Starkiller Base. The former Stormtrooper had been lying on the snow too, and it's so cold, and his blood is so warm, and―a faint bellow of pain splits his consciousness.

The last remaining Wampa falls in a flash of angry blue light, and then Rey's warm hands are frantically pulling at him. " _Finn_! Finn?" She sounds close to tears. "Oh stars, don't worry, I'll―you'll be fine!"

Vaguely, Finn's aware of how much his arm hurts, but what really hurts is the way Rey's face is all scrunched up in distress, her eyes shining with tears. He wishes it wasn't so much of a relief to see that she cares, cares so much she's on the verge of crying. After being so cold for so long, it feels like a wave of warmth has washed over him, starting in his chest and spreading throughout the rest of his body.

He lifts his uninjured arm, which still feels like lead, and gently caresses one side of her face. "'Course I will. I have you."

Her cheeks flush a dark pink, and he doesn't think it's just from the cold. Rey purses her lips, not trusting herself to speak, and instead slings Finn's uninjured arm over her narrow shoulders. For someone so lithe, even after three years of Jedi training, Finn still finds amusement whenever someone is surprised at just how strong she is. Rey's easily the strongest person he knows, physically or mentally.

Together, they stagger up the hill. As strong as she is, Rey still sags under his weight, pressure building in her recently healed ankle, but she knows she has no choice but to soldier on. Finn's life is on the line and she cannot― _she cannot_ ―lose him. Not because of her own weakness. Rey managed to make her way towards the mouth of their cave, the Wampa carcasses lying a good 10 feet away, already beginning to be buried in snow. They'll have to move soon, she knows, before the meat attracts any other Wampas or other predators, but for now she's focussing on making sure Finn doesn't lose anymore blood.

Not that he's lost a lot, the rational part of her brain knows. But it could have been worse. It could have been so, so much worse. The way he slumped over in the snow with blood running down his arm will be another in a long list of images that flicker in her nightmares, haunting her.

Vaguely, she supposes it fits. He's her ghost, her silent shadow even in the year they've been apart, haunting her every heartbeat. Try as she might, she can't get rid of him. Even if she wants to; even if she should want to.

"Don't ever leave me," she murmurs, easing him down onto the cave floor. He's out of it enough he won't remember the request, or at least so she hopes.

Rey gets his jacket off with some difficulty, the metal zipper nearly frozen over from the cold. She discards it on the floor nearby and then rolls up the sleeve of his dark undershirt. The wound is shallow, as she gently cleans it with what remains of their medical supplies. Finn's face spasms in pain, but luckily he's unconscious enough. His eyes only begin to flutter open once she's finished the cleaning and starts dressing it with gauze, wrapping the bandages tightly around it.

Finn winces once he goes to move, and she gently shushes him, pushing him back down by placing her hand lightly on his chest. "Take it easy," she says. "You got hurt."

A crease forms in his brow. "But you're okay?" he checks.

Rey purses her lips. "Yeah. The Wampas are dead now." She realizes her hand is still on his chest and goes to remove it when his warm fingers wrap around her wrist, keeping it there. In the beat of silence, she remembers their conversation before the Wampa's.

 _Rey...I still love you._

It's suddenly hard to breathe as her eyes flicker down to his lips, and then back up to his warm, brown eyes. "Finn, we..." She swallows hard, and tries to force words over the lump in her throat. "This―this isn't the time. We have other things to worry about."

"This isn't something you have to worry about," Finn says. His fingers slid down her wrist and his hand fully covers hers. Her heart is pounding in her throat, a storm as fierce as the one outside raging inside her head. _She can't do this...but she almost lost him. Again._ How much more time is she willing to waste? What if there is no life after the war? "This isn't a problem Rey. I just want you to know. That's all. I never wanted it to change us."

"It didn't," she manages. "It didn't, I swear to you."

The crease in his brow deepens, and he gives her hand a small squeeze. "Then what―"

"Everything else," and she knows it's not the answer he deserves. "And I couldn't handle it, I―I can't." There's a long silence, and for the first time, she truly lets her mind go back to a year ago. The realization she cannot put his life in danger. The realization that she needs him alive more than she wants him in her life, wants him by her side. She cannot let him die for her.

Because she loves him. She loves and she loves and _she loves him._ And she can't lose him. This is the truth. This is her burden.

Finn takes a long time to respond, his voice soft when he finally does. "Rey, you can handle anything―"

She shakes her head furiously. "No, I can't!"

"Rey―"

" _I can't handle losing you_!"

She doesn't mean to cry. She doesn't mean for the confession to come out as a choked sob, but it does, tears building in her eyes and blurring her vision. Finn's the one who's injured yet he's the one comforting her as she buries her face in his warm, broad chest. He wraps his good arm around her and she throws hers around his neck, holding him so close she can hear his heartbeat, steady and strong. If that heartbeat ever stopped, she's not sure what she would do. Even if she knows the fear―all of it, in all of its horrific glory―runs deeper, is frozen in her veins and spreads with every rush of blood.

Finn's breath is warm, ghosting the top of his head as he presses his lips to her hairline. "You're not gonna lose me," he murmurs. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I come back for you, remember? I'll always come back for you." Rey holds him tighter, craving affection, warmth. Craving him. "I'll always come back for you," he repeats, his voice growing softer.

They stay like that for a long time, and somehow it still doesn't feel like long enough. No animals come in the night for the carcasses, and even the snow stops. Night's fallen, thick and heavy, when Rey notes the absence of Finn's chin on the crest of her head, and pulls away slightly to see what's caught his attention.

"You can see the stars," he says, and Rey melts into the softness and warmth of his smile, actually feeling safe for the first time in a very, very long time.

She keeps her gaze on him, seeing the way the stars and constellations light up his eyes, even when he looks back at her. Is this what love is? Seeing your galaxy in another person? "Yeah. You can."

She doesn't leave his side, even as she drifts off to sleep.


End file.
